Love Isn't Our Only Weapon
by butterbeerbaby
Summary: Fred and George meet a girl. To what lengths will they go to win her over and get rid of the competition - each other? Rated K plus for now, we'll see where it goes.
1. Chapter 1: A Tantalizing Letter

**Hello! I took a bath yesterday to think of some new ideas for a story, and this one popped into my head. Fred and George fighting over a girl. Simple, probably been done before, but I want to see where I can take this. Review, please! Thanks in advance.**

**And I will still be continuing my other story (Trust Me, I Won't Hurt You), for those of you who are interested.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own these marvelous characters, unfortunately. J.K. Rowling has that pleasure.  
****Except for Georgia. She's mine. **

A rubber chicken flew around the room, beating its wings and squawking loudly, its beady eyes practically popping out of its head. It bounced off of counters and chairs, walls and cabinets, until finally landing on the edge of a pot. Taking a dramatic bow, it let out one last squawk before immobilizing and plunging head-first into the pot with a splash. Everyone sitting in the bright, colorful room laughed joyously, and a mutual feeling of pure happiness shimmered in the air.

Fred and George Weasley were sitting alongside each other at the crooked kitchen table, wands pointed at the chicken, which was currently dancing the cha-cha along the stovetop.

"You boys really need to grow up, did you know?" Ginny said, a reluctant smile spreading across her face. Hermione, seated next to the red-headed girl at the table across from the twins, clutched Ginny's shoulder for support as she erupted in laughter. Her wild curls bounced with every giggle, and a deep blush spread across her cheeks. Harry and Ron chuckled from their perch on the counter, their legs swinging and their crumb-covered hands ducking in and out of the forever-full cookie jar.

"Oh, please, like that will ever happen," Ron cracked a grin, his numerous freckles bouncing around on his nose as Harry nudged him, not managing to suppress a laugh.

"You don't have to tell us, Wonny," George smirked, moving his wand so the chicken was bouncing on top of Ron's head, who grimaced and wildly tried to brush it off. Peals of laughter escaped from the girls' mouths, and Ron sent them a look that could kill.

"We already know we're childish. 'Tis what makes us loveable." Fred finished for George, lifting the chicken high enough that Ron couldn't reach, and bringing it back down to bounce on his head when he gave up trying.

"Right. Like anyone other than mum loves you. Then again, I bet even mum has her doubts," Ron smiled smugly and held a hand up to Harry for a high-five. Harry just shook his head and looked away, biting his lip to try and hold back a laugh.

"Oh, coming from you, Cupid," Fred looked at Harry and winked, "You've just had a load of girlfriends, haven't you?" Ron's face reddened, and he shook his fist at Fred angrily, who acted like he was afraid.

It was the week before school started up again, for Ron, Harry and Hermione's fourth year, Ginny's third, and Fred and George's sixth. The group of friends were spending a normal day in the kitchen of the Burrow. Arthur was at work at the Ministry, tending to a bout of cursed toilets, and Molly had gone shopping for groceries with one of her friends, leaving the kids alone at home. It was only ten in the morning, but they had been awake and making chaos for the past couple hours, and now they were resting and making general conversation. Or, they were trying to until Fred and George acted like themselves and brought the rubber chicken to life.

"Do you think our letters from school will be arriving soon," Hermione asked after everyone had calmed down, resting her hands on the table in front of her and leaning forward excitedly, "I really want to get to Diagon Alley soon before all the good Potions ingredients are gone."

"Oh, who cares?" Ginny asked, exasperated, "I just want to enjoy the rest of the summer while it lasts. Who wants to go out to the patch and play a friendly game of Quidditch?" the rest of the friends groaned in response.

"Friendly?" Harry scoffed, rubbing his shoulder, "My shoulder still hurts from the last game. There really was no need to crash into me that hard. I mean, seriously, you could've just-" he was cut off when Hermione gasped, jumping out of her chair and leaning past him to open the window. A large, tawny owl flew through, landing on the kitchen table and holding out its foot, followed by another gray barn owl who did the same. Hermione, in a frenzy, untied the six pieces of parchment attached to the owls, murmured a thank you, and the owls turned and flew back through the window. Harry closed it after them, then turned to Hermione, who was flipping through the letters.

"Letters from Hogwarts?" he asked, jumping off the counter and stood next to Hermione, peering over her shoulder, followed closely behind by Ron.

"Yes!" she replied, hurriedly distributing the letters to their owners, then ripped through the seal of hers. Cheeks flushed, she scanned the list of supplies then read the attached letter, "Hmph. Interesting."

"What is it?" Ginny asked, stuffing her barely-read letter back into the envelope.

"According to this letter from Dumbledore, the Triwizard Tournament is going to be held at Hogwarts this year. Students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be staying at Hogwarts until the tournament is over." Hermione read, then carefully folded up her letter and slid it back into her envelope, making a mental note to go over the school supply list more thoroughly when she had a chance.

"Beauxbatons? Isn't that where all the French girls go?" Ron asked, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. Harry winked at him in agreement. Ginny kicked them both, and Hermione raised an eyebrow in their direction.

"Boys." she said, shaking her head, and Ginny nodded in agreement, looking annoyed. Ron and Harry shrugged, then turned to Fred and George, who were still reading their letters, eyebrows knotted in concentration.

"Hey, George, Fred," Harry said, waving a hand between their gaze and the pieces of parchment, "You haven't said much. What's in your letters?" They turned their papers over simultaneously, and all bodies hunched over the table to read the paragraph that was the same on both letters.

_To Fred Weasley(Gryffindor), George Weasley(Gryffindor), & Georgia Pennington(Ravenclaw)-_

_On the first day of term, when The Great Feast is finished, do __**NOT **__go back to your dormitories with all the other students. Please make your way to Professor Dumbledore's office immediately, for he has some important words to speak with you. That is all. Thank you._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall _

"Who's Georgia Pennington from Ravenclaw? She sounds like some old cat lady," Ron laughed, hunching his shoulders over and pantomiming holding a cane, "I'm Georgia Pennington! Fluffington? Where are you, Fluffington?" Harry laughed, imitating him, until Hermione elbowed him and told him to cut it out.

"What do you think Dumbledore wants with you?" Ginny asked, confused, "Did you do anything wrong?"

"Well, of course we did something wrong. We always do something wrong. But I don't know what it was this time." George shrugged.

"Its never been so bad that Dumbledore had to get involved, though," Hermione pointed out, and leaned over the letter one more time to make sure she hadn't missed anything.

"Dunno." Fred puffed out his cheeks and blew out a puff of air, "I just wish I knew who this Georgia character was. Maybe that would clear something out."

"I just know one thing," Ron said, placing a hand on George's shoulder, "Better not let Mum see that letter. She'll go berserk." The rest nodded their heads in agreement, then whipped their heads around as the door crashed in the next room. Molly Weasley walked into the kitchen, levitating her bags full of groceries and setting them onto the counter. Wiping off her hands, she turned to the kids, who were still seated around the table.

"Who'll go berserk?"

**Ooh, cliffhanger. I've got a general idea for the next couple chapters so those should be up pretty soon. I have a sleepover tomorrow night and will be gone most of Wednesday, but I will try to update both my stories as often as I can.**

**Thanks again if you review. (:**


	2. Chapter 2: Could This Be Her?

**Hello! Time for Chapter 2. I'm truthfully more into my other story, not so much this one, but I will keep updating it.**

**Even quicker if I can get some reviews. Please? (:**

The friends scrambled away from the letters, which Fred hastily grabbed and stuffed under his shirt, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning forward on the table. George averted his gaze, letting it wander around the room and whistling in an effort to look inconspicuous. Molly tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for an answer to her question.

"Whatever it is, you better spill it out. You bunch look awfully suspicious. Especially you, George," she pointed out, and George flushed, stopping mid-whistle and looking down at his feet. Harry and Hermione looked at each other in discomfort, trying to think of an answer, until Ron suddenly cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"You see, mum," he started out, sounding like he was trying to hard to be professional. Molly just raised an eyebrow and locked her eyes on his. Ron felt awfully uncomfortable, and it showed by the way he was rubbing his shoulder nervously and was glancing to the side every couple of seconds, trying to keep from looking directly at his mother, "We were talking about Ginny." At the mention of her name, Ginny snapped her head forward and glared at her brother, then turned and smiled sweetly at her mother, who still looked like she didn't believe a word they were saying.

"Oh, yeah," Harry backed him up, "We were just talking about Quidditch, and what would happen if Ron beat Ginny," Harry felt a little bashful, but, really, it was only half a lie. They were talking about Quidditch earlier, after all, "And we decided that she would go berserk."

"Of course," Molly looked doubtful, but she shook her head, deciding to believe him, and turned around to see Ron and Harry's letters lying on the kitchen counter, "Oh, your letters came! Good, good. We should get to Diagon Alley soon, I presume. Tomorrow?". The friends murmured their agreement, relieved, and Fred and George sent them silent looks of thanks. Molly kept her back turned, scanning the supply lists, then opening her jar of coins, taking them out one by one and counting under her breath, "This should be okay." she said, then held out a little pouch to each Harry and Hermione, "Here, dears. We had Bill pick up some of your money at the bank," they thanked her, and bit their lips guiltily. She looked at them momentarily, then shook her head and shuffled out of the room. Once she was out of eyesight, Fred whispered loudly to Harry,

"Hey, thanks, mate. Dunno what this letter's about but I don't want to take my chances," Harry smiled in acknowledgement, and Ron reddened.

"Hey, I helped, too! It was my idea!" he furrowed his eyebrows, but Fred just laughed. Ron reddened even more and fell silent, grumbling in his mind about the unfairness of it all.

* * *

"Alright, children. Go ahead and split up, but make sure to meet back here at exactly three o'clock. I don't want-" Molly Weasley began, standing by the entrance of Diagon Alley, numerous bags in hand and her forehead creased as she was cut off by a chorus off "yeah"s and "sure"s. The rest of her sentence faded into oblivion when the friends turned off their ears to her and started making their way down the cobblestone street, lists of school supplies in tow.

It was a beautiful summer day, the sun beating down on the alley with rays of warmth, lighting the heads of the various witches and wizards strolling the paths, scanning store fronts with glittering displays, chatting with friends as they purchased their goods, and being drawn in by the catcalls of storekeepers trying to sell their "17 sickles for 2 dragon livers" and other deals that were supposed to help sell their products. And, judging by the crowded streets and doorways that you needed to squeeze your way through, they were working. Hermione and Ginny, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, led the way, talking excitedly. Harry, Ron, Fred and George loped casually behind, making conversation and pretended that they didn't know the two girls, who were now skipping down the street and causing many stares from the passerby.

"Where are we going first?" Ron called out ahead of them, with Hermione's muffled reply of "robes" came twirling back on the slight breeze. He nodded in reply, though she couldn't see him anyway, and decided to follow along. Harry chuckled, hands in his pockets,

"To think girls could be so excited about school," he shook his head as though it was a pain to even think about their point of view, and the other boys murmured their agreement. Ron stopped short suddenly, staring into a storefront, a broomstick gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through the glass. Various boys were gathered around the display, whispering in hushed wonder at the cherry-colored wood, the slick black head, not a thread out of place. Ron stepped closer in awe, pressing himself against the glance, eyes wide open as he soaked in the sight of the broom he would never own. He was so close to pressing his nose against the glass, like the tiny boy standing by his feet, but Harry grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him away, with little snippets of "come on, mate" and "we're losing the girls".

"That was beautiful," Ron whispered, and Fred and George snickered in reply. Harry looked sad, glancing behind him as Fred hastily spoke,

"Couldn't afford it anyway, bro," he said, and George nodded, agreeing with his eyebrows raised, "Shame. What a lovely broom. Maybe it could've even done the unthinkable and helped you play better, too," he guffawed, and the twins slapped hands, still laughing. Harry rolled his eyes with a reluctant grin on his face, and Ron snapped out of his reverie and glared at the twins, whose faces were red from their laughing, "Although, I think even that would be too hard," Fred choked out, and Ron punched him in the arm menacingly.

"Shut up," he grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest and huffed, moving to the other side of Harry so that he was no longer in the middle. Harry patted his shoulder and buried his face in his collar, so Ron wouldn't see he was laughing and hold a grudge on him, too. Ginny and Hermione were way ahead by now, and the boys rushed to catch up with them right as they were entering Madame Malkin's, and they all fell silent as they stepped into the quiet environment. A fine film of dust sparkled in the air where streams of light shone in, but otherwise the store was spotless. The floors gleamed, the desk shone, and the rows and rows of robes were all in a neat row, not a robe out of place. Various signs hovering in the air led the way to any specific robes a customer could be looking for, from "self-ironing" and "slimming" to "beautifying" and "fattening". Hermione walked slowly, from heel to toe, strumming a rack of dress robes, pulling out the odd one that caught her eye.

"Dress robes?" Harry whispered, careful not to disturb the peace.

"They're on the list," she answered, whispering as well, then turned to Ron, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes and fixing her gaze on him, "Which reminds me; your mother told me to tell you not to buy any. She has some at home to give you." Ron groaned inwardly, imagining what kind of robes his mother could have in store for him, and Fred snickered, imagining the same. Suddenly they could hear Madame Malkin's shrill voice piercing through the air, and they jumped in response.

"Hold still, dearie," she crooned, and they heard a yelp followed by a female voice they didn't recognize,

"Ow! That hurt!" it complained, and it was followed by a quick sorry from Madame followed by another yelp. Curious, the group walked forward, past the dressing room where a girl was standing on the pedestal, her new robes being nipped and tucked by Madame Malkin, who was zooming in and them, her needle pointed like the stinger on a bee. Every time she dove in for the punch, the girl winced, then got her hand slapped away when she leaned over to rub the sore spot. Settling for a grimace and a small frown whenever she got pierced by the needle, the girl managed to stay still, keeping her eyes settled on a spot in the distance and not noticing the group standing nearby. With a whispered chorus, the friends decided unanimously that the girl looked familiar, and they had seen her around school, but no one was sure of her name, let alone her house or year. One thing they all silently and unknowingly agreed, though, was that this girl was pretty in an unexpected kind of way. She had black hair the color of ebony, although it sparkled instead of laying dull, which hung choppily around her shoulders and swung down in a dramatic bang that partially covered her left eye. The only part of her hair that differed was a bright blue streak framing her face, which was golden and slightly freckled across her button nose. Her eyes were a deep emerald green and framed by a halo of blue-painted eyelashes, and her lips were bare and a soft pink, currently in a pout. She had a diamond stud in her nose. Overall, her appearance wasn't one that was normal at their school, and they all felt a little taken aback, not just by her appearance, but also by the air around her that said she didn't care. She didn't care what people thought of her. She didn't care that she did things she wasn't supposed to do. She didn't care that she was different. And, lastly, she didn't care, or so they hoped, when she turned and saw the group eyeing her nervously. She sighed with exasperation, averting her gaze to pick at her fingernails.

"And, done" Madame Malkin beamed, pinching one last piece into place, then turning the girl around and gently pushing her into a dressing room to change back out of the robes. She levitated her needle into a large basket that rested on a chair, then wiped off her hands, tucking a hair that was loose out of her bun behind her ear, and turned to the group who quickly pretended to look at various robes that were obviously not right for any of them, considering their floating label said, "for the outsize witch or wizard".

"I'll be right with you as soon as I finish up with this customer," she directed at them, sending a friendly wink as the mysterious girl walked out of the dressing room, dressed normally and holding a couple different robes folded up on her arm. She followed Madame Malkin towards the front desk, where she handed a small velvet back that jangled when she lifted it out of her bag. Madame pointed her wand at the coins until they formed a small pile of just the right amount, and handed the bag filled with the rest of the coins back to the girl, who thanked her quietly and turned to walk out the door.

"Come back anytime, Miss Pennington," she called after her as the door came to a close, and the friends froze, sending looks to each other.

"Where have I heard that name before...?" Ron asked, confused, and he was greeted with more looks of recognizing, with the furrowed eyebrows of trying to remember. It was at the tip of this tongue, and he snapped regularly as he tried to bring it back into his mind. At the same time, the image of the tantalizing letter flew into Fred and George's minds, blurred but with a certain line in perfect focus: _...Georgia Pennington(Ravenclaw). _They looked at each other franticly, then to the surprise of their friends and a quiet yelp from Madame Malkin, who had made her way over where they were standing and had just opened her mouth to speak, they turned and ran out of the store, leaving their things behind and pursuing the girl who could have the answer.

**Again, please review! Its always very helpful and also makes me happy! (:**

**I liked this chapter more than the first one.**

**Opinions?**


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